


Richie's Secret

by consultingpiemaker



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Coming Out, First Kiss, Fix-It, I tried to make this as canon-compliant as possible, M/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-14 00:04:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20591345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/consultingpiemaker/pseuds/consultingpiemaker
Summary: "I'm giving you what you want, Richie. What you'vealwayswanted."When Eddie walks into Richie's room at the Derry Town House, Richie is caught off-guard by Eddie's advances. And even though Richie's whole body is aching for Eddie, he is unable to shake the feeling that something feels off about this. When his doubts are confirmed, that this is just a game by It, Richie is left terrified. He has a long overdue conversation with Eddie and finally finds the courage to be true to himself.





	Richie's Secret

**Author's Note:**

> I came across a post on tumblr that was like "you know how Pennywise tricked Ben in the form of Beverly and kissed him? basically that but with Richie and Eddie", so that's what I wrote about; I can't find the post again in the reddie tag, otherwise I'd link it here. Nothing graphic actually happens because No Thank You!
> 
> Basically, Pennywise pretends to be Eddie and wants to give Richie everything he's ever wanted, and Richie is left terrified and can only be consolidated by the real Eddie, warm and loving and true. Enjoy!

Richie started with fright at the sound of squeaky door hinges. It pulled him out of his pensive state, back into his room at the Town House in Derry, a town he hadn't spared a single thought about during the past 27 years. From his spot on the bed, he turned towards the slowly opening door, prepared to face whatever was coming in.

"Richie?" a voice asked, and Richie was relieved to see Eddie when he turned on the lamp on his nightstand.

"Eddie," Richie said, the name strange, yet so familiar on his tongue after all these years. "What's wrong?"

"Couldn't sleep," Eddie mumbled and faced the door when he closed it, moving his hands so slowly that the door made no sound. He waited a few seconds while still facing the door, and Richie could hear him take in deep breaths. "I hope it's alright that I came here."

Richie sat up and leaned against the wall behind the bed, adjusting his shirt a bit. "Yeah of course. I can't sleep either."

Slowly, Eddie turned around and faced the bed, taking a step closer. His movement seemed almost predatory, but Richie blamed this on the tricks of darkness and his lack of sleep. Eddie raised his head, and Richie's heart skipped a beat as their eyes met. "I mean," Eddie said, "how could we possibly sleep if we're all together again, after all this time, right?" His voice was only slightly louder than a whisper would have been.

Richie was looking at Eddie, letting his eyes wander up and down his body for a brief moment. He still couldn't believe that this was _Eddie_, that they hadn't seen each other for more than half their lives. Just like earlier at dinner, endless memories came flooding back into Richie's mind, of hot summers spent in the Barrens, building a dam and a clubhouse, spending afternoons at the Aladdin, and the almost overwhelming urge to run away from something. All that and more, always with Eddie by his side.

Richie swore he would have recognized him anywhere and anytime, his mannerisms, his eyes, and the way his lips curled around the relatively rare smiles on his face. _Eds_.

"It's crazy," Richie simply said, shaking his head and burying it in his hands. He could feel the slight twinge of an oncoming headache, which didn't surprise him after the day he'd had. When he looked up again, Eddie was standing right next to the bed, his knees touching the wooden frame.

"It's crazy how this brought us back together, you and I," Eddie said, a tone in his voice that Richie couldn't quite place. He didn't sound surprised or happy or shocked; it almost sounded as if he didn't care at all.

"What do you mean?"

"You and I?" Eddie asked, raising his eyebrows. When Richie didn't answer, a smirk appeared on Eddie's lips. He looked at the ground for a moment, the blush on his cheeks now barely noticeable in the low light. "Come on. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

That smirk. It was beginning to frighten Richie how odd it looked on Eddie's face, particularly right then and there. It looked out of place, inappropriate. "I don't know what you mean."

"I think you do. I think you know it but perhaps don't want to admit it," Eddie said, and then he kneeled down on the mattress, crawling closer on his hands. "Even after all this time. You," he whispered, "and me. What we had, what we _still_ have, Richie."

Richie's heart was pounding in his chest and his body moved back of its own accord, hitting the wall hard. He had been close to Eddie before, physically close, but that had always been accompanied by a dumb joke, the imitation of a voice or by an annoyed remark from Eddie, but _never_ by that specific look in Eddie's eyes and the grin on his face.

When Eddie put his hand on Richie's thigh and draped his left leg over Richie's, it caught Richie off guard. And it didn't stop there. Eddie moved his face closer.

"I know your little secret," he said, his mouth almost touching Richie's ear. His hot breath made the hairs on Richie's arms stand up. "But it's not so little now, is it? It's been with you for more than 27 years, keeping you up at night." Eddie was right next to him now, so close that Richie could feel the warmth radiating from his body.

"What are you doing?" Richie asked, startled by how weak he sounded, how overwhelmed. It pained him that he was an adult but that he was still scared. Scared of this reality, of what came after this.

Eddie shifted on his legs. "I'm giving you what you want, Richie. What you've _always_ wanted." And then he lifted his hand and placed it on Richie's right cheek, turning his head. Their eyes met again, and Richie had never seen a more intense look in somebody's eyes. "This _is_ what you've always wanted, isn't it?"

It wasn't a conscious decision to hold his breath, but Richie's body seemed to fail him. His skin was heating up underneath Eddie's hands and legs, it was as if his blood had been replaced with fire. He couldn't remember ever having felt this hot before in his entire life. But then again, he also couldn't remember having loved anyone as much as his body reminded him now of loving Eddie.

"Eddie," Richie whispered then, balling up Eddie's shirt in his fists. He was fighting the urge to push him away while also wanting to press him closer and never let go. He couldn't focus on a single thought. His head was spinning.

_his hands are on me and mine are on him oh my god I've dreamed of this moment before and now it's here and I've never felt so hot before I never want this to be over but why now why is it happening now_

"Is there something wrong with your mouth?" Eddie's voice brought Richie back to reality, the weight of Eddie on him a clear reminder. "Did it stop working?"

"What?"

"You used to talk more," Eddie clarified. He ran his finger across Richie's bottom lip before placing his hand on the back of Richie's head, his fingers combing through his hair. "What happened to your dirty mouth?"

At that, Richie's mouth fell open as if on cue. "I don't . . . I don't know."

"You're pretty like this," Eddie said, almost matter-of-factly.

Richie's breath caught in his throat. "Why are you doing this?" He couldn't help himself, he had to ask. His eyes were darting back and forth between Eddie's eyes and lips. They were so painfully close. "Why _now_, Eds?" The nickname came easily to him even if it had been 27 years since his mouth had formed that word.

Eddie's eyes lit up. He looked pleased. "I told you, I know your secret. What you thought about me back then, what you thought about other boys when you were lying in your bed." Eddie's hand was still at the back of Richie's head when he placed his left hand on Richie's chest. Slowly, he moved it downwards, his fingers catching on the buttons of Richie's shirt.

And if Richie's eyes hadn't already been open with shock before, they would have been now that Eddie's hand had reached his pants, his fingers hooking underneath the waistband. Richie could feel himself getting hard, and a part of him hated himself for it.

"Do you want me?" Eddie asked, more breath than voice, and he pressed his forehead against Richie's. Richie could feel his hot breath again, could feel it ghosting over his own lips.

_God yes_, Richie screamed in his head, all of his pent-up longing and yearning wanting to break free. He had never allowed himself to act on any of these feelings, to touch another man. But now, after this absolute nightmare of a day and with Eddie pressed up against him, he found himself unwilling to fight his feelings any longer.

He grabbed Eddie by the waist and could feel the muscles move underneath his hands, and he pulled him closer.

_Fuck it_.

He could have this.

He was about to kiss Eddie when he felt Eddie's hand unzipping his pants and sneaking in, excruciatingly slow, and he forgot how to breathe again. His head fell against the wall behind him, his eyes rolled back in his head. He let himself get lost in Eddie's touch, in the way his hand moved over him. A moan escaped his lips at the contact, and his hips bucked upwards, chasing Eddie's touch.

"Fuck," Richie whimpered, and then his hate turned against Derry, against the town which made him hide away his true self and which made him ashamed. He wanted to cry at how good this felt and how the world kept him from experiencing something even remotely close to this. It wasn't fair.

He put his hands on either side of Eddie's face and brought their foreheads closer together again. And when Richie pressed his cheek to Eddie's, he felt how sticky Eddie's skin was. When he moved back a moment later, it felt as if it left something behind. Was it tears? Sweat? Richie's skin tingled and he lifted his hand up to wipe whatever it was away from his cheek. It felt warm and smooth underneath his fingertips.

Eddie's hand began to move again, and Richie bit his lip and grabbed Eddie's arm. His hand left a white imprint on Eddie's maroon cardigan, and all of a sudden the blood froze in Richie's veins.

Something wasn't right.

He _knew_ that something about this had felt off this whole time.

Eddie would never do this. Would never come into his room at night to have sex with him, especially not after the day they'd all had.

This was wrong. This wasn't him.

Richie grabbed Eddie by the shoulders and pushed him away, finding strength in his panic. The first thing he registered was the whiteness of Eddie's skin. His lips were the deep red color of blood.

"Why did you stop?" Eddie asked quietly, a smirk on his lips despite the look of utter terror on Richie's face. That _smirk_. Richie should have noticed it sooner, shouldn't have ignored it. The mischief in Eddie's eyes. "Don't you like it?"

"You're not real," Richie said, and now his heart was pounding because of fear instead of longing. "You're not Eddie."

And just then Eddie's features seemed to shift, to melt off his face. The white of his skin became more and more prominent until Richie realized it was paint, blindingly white paint. His eyes were missing the warmth and light of Eddie's, and a glint appeared in them.

"What a shame," a voice said, coming out of Eddie's changing body. "Just when I was starting to have fun."

Richie tried to pull his legs out from underneath the body, but he couldn't move. Instead, he was stunned, defenseless, and he had no choice but to stare at the body that was taking on another form right in front of him. A form he knew too well. A form he had wished to never see again.

Where Eddie's dark hair had been mere seconds before were now orange tufts. The softness of Eddie's cardigan was gone, replaced by the stiff material of a grey suit.

A loud scream filled Richie's ears, and it slowly dawned on him that it was coming from his own lungs. It was deafening and raw, resounding from the walls.

Within seconds, footsteps could be heard from outside the room, followed by the sound of doors opening. Richie kept screaming, his lungs were on fire.

Pennywise shot up on the bed, his movement unnatural as though he was pulled up by strings. He loomed over Richie, a big smile forming on his face. "They'll know your secret," he said, and he was gone as soon as the door to Richie's room was pushed open.

The door banged against the wall, clattering, and Eddie and Beverly ran into the room. They were immediately followed by Ben and Bill. Richie stopped screaming, and the quiet was abrupt and deafening. All he could hear now were the sound of shuffling feet and calls of his name.

"Richie!" Eddie screamed, running around the bed, and Richie could feel the mattress dip next to him where both Eddie and Beverly kneeled down. He could feel hands on his arms and head.

"Are you okay?" Beverly asked to his left, trying to meet his eyes.

"Richie," Eddie repeated, gripping his arm and shaking him slightly.

It took Richie a moment to calm down, to be able to breathe again. His chest hurt, and adrenaline was still rushing through his veins. He could feel tears coming up.

"What happened?" Ben asked, standing behind Beverly and looking as though he was ready to kill someone if need be.

Richie was overwhelmed. "It was here, it—" he began, but his voice broke. Fear was still deep in his bones, leaving his body shaking. "It almost got me."

"Fuck," Bill said, sitting down near Richie's feet and putting a reassuring hand on Richie's shin. "Fuck," he repeated, quieter this time.

"It's gone," Beverly reassured Richie, her hand resting on his arm. "And we're here. You're okay."

"It almost _fucking_ got me!" Richie repeated, and that's when the reality of it all hit him. He could have died. He could have been dead meat by now, just another of the victims who would be all over the news until Pennywise would strike again and he would be forgotten.

Beverly put her hand to Richie's face, cradling his cheek. "What happened?" she asked. Richie shifted and noticed that his pants were still undone, and he suddenly felt sick. The fear of rejection from the people who mattered the most to him terrified him.

Frantically, Richie pushed Beverly's hand away from his cheek. He didn't dare look at her face. "This is too much for me," he said, his voice wavering. "I can't—"

"It's g-g-gone, R-Richie," Bill insisted, and suddenly Richie was transported back to that day in Neibolt Street, tears streaming down his face as he and Bill were kneeling on the street, holding onto each other after being chased by the Teenage Werewolf. How could Richie have ever removed a day like that from his memory? It was all coming back to him now.

It could have killed him back then and It could have killed him just now. But It didn't, the clown liked to play games. Play with their fears and mess with their heads.

Richie didn't even realize that he was crying until Eddie leaned forward and slung his arms around his neck. His hands were rubbing soothing circles on Richie's back, and in that exact moment Richie felt safe. The hug was getting tighter and heavier, and he knew that everyone else had leaned in as well. With his friends around him, being there for him, Richie almost felt invincible.

Nobody said a word for a good while, they just held Richie and each other in silence. Everyone was lost in their own thoughts, trying to imagine what tomorrow would bring. Would they make it? Would they succeed with what they came here to do?

"Are you okay, Richie?" Ben asked, quietly, his hand on Beverly's shoulder. Eddie and Bill leaned back to give Richie room to breathe and move again.

"I feel better," Richie said.

They all stayed with him for a while and talked about anything that came to mind, continuing some of the conversations they'd started back at the restaurant. Richie's heartbeat was slowly but surely back to normal, although normal was relative in his case. But the voices of his friends and their presence helped a great deal. Richie didn't even want to think about what could have happened if they hadn't heard his screams.

Ben was the first to leave, getting tired and no longer able to awkwardly kneel behind Beverly. He threw a final glance over his shoulder at Richie before he silently left the room.

Then Beverly stood up, putting her hand on Richie's shoulder. "Are you gonna be fine?" she asked. Richie played with the idea of asking her to go outside with him to have a smoke, but all he did was nod. She gave his shoulder a squeeze. "See you in the morning," she said, following Ben out into the hallway.

"Call muh-muh-me if you need a-a-anything," Bill said before he got up as well, and Richie knew he meant it.

Now there was only Eddie left. Silently, he stood up as well and walked around the bed to the door. There was a hesitance in his step, as though he didn't want to leave. And perhaps it was that hesitance that gave Richie the courage to speak up.

"Eddie," he said, feeling the fear and cold settle around him again now that everyone was leaving. At the sound of his name, Eddie stopped in the door and turned around. He looked at Richie, taking in the way he was folded in on himself on the bed. He knew what Richie wanted to ask, the almost blind understanding of his old friend coming back to him as well.

"You want me to stay?" he asked, and the nod of Richie's head was barely noticeable, but it was there. Eddie closed the door in front of him and sat down where Beverly had been sitting just seconds before.

They were completely silent for a while, but it wasn't uncomfortable, not for them. Looking around the room and at Eddie's legs right next to his, Richie could not fathom how not even 24 hours ago he didn't have any memory of this town, of these people, of Eddie. All of this had been completely erased from his memory, but maybe not from his heart, judging by how easy it was for him to remember how he felt that summer.

It was as if the feelings had stuck with him, had remained in his heart, hidden deeply, and only now he was able to put faces to these feelings. His heart was yearning for something so strongly as if after more than 27 years of trying to ignore it and maybe being oblivious to it it no longer wanted to hide away from the world.

Richie could feel Eddie's thumb moving over his hand, intertwining their fingers and resting their hands on top of his thigh, and Richie felt his cheeks heating up. _What is wrong with me_, he thought to himself, _I'm 40 years old, for god's sake!_ He had sat this close next to Eddie before, at the Aladdin, on the bus, in their clubhouse. But he knew very well that this was different now. _He_ was different, always had been, and it had terrified him when he was younger. And the longer Richie thought about it, the sharper the pain in his heart was when he realized that he was still terrified. He felt as though nothing had changed.

Richie wanted to pull his hand back, but Eddie didn't let him. Instead, he squeezed it tightly. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it," he said and then added with a lowered voice, "I understand."

_Nothing has changed_, Richie thought. And when it dawned on him how miserable he had felt right before Mike's call, how the feeling that his life wasn't worthwhile the way he lived it had been his constant companion, he realized it was now or never. _Everything is going to change_.

"It was you," Richie said, and he stared at their hands intently. He didn't know if he was imagining things or if Eddie squeezed his hand tighter. "It was _you_, that fucking clown was pretending to be _you_." His throat was closing up again and he could feel Eddie tense up next to him. "And I fell for it. It knows—"

_My deepest, darkest secret_, Richie thought, with sudden terror. "How it can get me." And he wondered if Eddie felt their connection from childhood coming back to him as well, settling into his bones with every passing second, like a rubber band snapping back into place.

"What happened?" Eddie asked again, knowing that if Richie wouldn't tell him now he never would.

But Richie found it difficult to speak. And he wanted to laugh at how ridiculous this was, this whole situation. He was able to stand on a big stage and entertain hundreds of people, had made it his career, but here he was, words failing him as soon as he was alone with Eddie, an audience of one.

Then fears were beginning to cloud his mind. _What if I die tomorrow? What if I never get to see Eddie again? Never get to tell him how I feel?_

His gaze fell on their intertwined hands, still lying on top of Eddie's thigh. Richie wished he could go back in time and tell his younger self that his wish of holding Eddie's hand would come true one day, albeit not under the circumstances he'd always dreamed of. He wished he could tell him to stop hating himself because it was Eddie he always found himself staring at, not Beverly or any of the other girls. _Nothing is wrong with you nothing is wrong with you nothing is wrong with you_.

"I never told you," Richie whispered, a sudden sense of clarity overcoming him. "I loved you then. And I think I love you still." He closed his eyes, afraid to see Eddie's reaction, be it as subtle as a twitch of his hand.

"Shit," he could hear Eddie whisper, and Richie slowly opened his eyes, realizing that Eddie hadn't moved a single bit. He was still there, right beside him. "I love you too, man."

Richie wanted to scream. "No, not like . . . None of that _no homo_ shit, Eds, not just in a friend way. I fucking _loved_ you." For a while Eddie was completely silent, and Richie wasn't even sure if he was still breathing. "Please don't hate me," he whispered, feeling as though he was a kid again, lying on his bed with tears drying on his face, terrified of what would happen if people _knew_.

Eddie spun his head around. "Richie," he said, his voice soft and his gaze warm, and it reminded Richie of how his mother always looked at him. _It's going to be fine, Richie_, she used to say whenever she found him in one of his moods. She would hold him, and when Richie said things like, "But right now everything is _shit_!" she didn't even tell him off for using that type of language. Maybe she knew about him all along.

The same look was on Eddie's face now. For a brief moment Richie feared it could be a look of pity, maybe even shame, but he hoped that it was the look of somebody who cared for him, who worried about him, who wanted him to be okay. Someone who Richie was terrified of finding out the truth about him and leaving him.

There was no going back now.

"I love you," Richie said, repeating it over and over in his head. "I like men and I'm in love with you."

_Holy shit_, he thought. He had never said these words out loud before.

And nothing bad happened. He was still breathing, he didn't combust, and Eddie didn't run away screaming. The world kept spinning.

"I don't know what to say," Eddie said, quietly.

"You can say anything as long as you don't leave," Richie said, and Eddie must have seen the tears that were collecting behind his glasses.

"I'm not going to leave, Rich." Eddie's voice was stern, determined. And there was something in his eyes that Richie had never seen before. Maybe it was understanding, maybe surprise, or whatever you'd feel when your friend confesses their love for you.

"Good," Richie said, and he could not stop staring into Eddie's eyes. In them lay hope, possibility, and a light that made him want to keep going. "I never thought I'd tell you that. I mean, I can't even say I missed you because yesterday I wasn't even aware of your existence."

Eddie shifted on the bed, rotating his upper body more towards Richie. "I know what you mean."

"Rude."

Eddie rolled his eyes. Then he lowered his gaze, and suddenly Richie was afraid of what would come next. "I wasn't completely honest with you either," he whispered.

Richie looked at him, at the tiny shadows his eyelashes cast on his cheeks, at the tip of his nose, at his lips. "You're not actually married to a woman?" he asked, the hint of a sheepish grin on his face.

"No," Eddie said, shaking his head. "Fuck you, not _that_. This isn't about anything I told you today, it's what I didn't tell you back then. I, uh . . . I had thoughts back then that scared me. Like, when we watched _Back to the Future_ I thought Marty McFly was—" He stopped for a second, the look on his face one of bringing back memories, and his blushing cheeks made Richie wish he could have seen the expression on Eddie's face back then. "I thought he was kinda cute, but I never told you or Bill or any of the others. My mom made it pretty clear what she thought about people like that, so . . ."

"Oh, believe me, you weren't the only one with a crush on a guy like him on the big screen. You know, Tony Rivers without all of that hair? He can wolf me down any day, if you know what I mean."

"Shut up," Eddie said, half-heartedly. "Gross."

Richie ignored the comment. "You know, Eds, thinking that Marty McFly was cute is, how should I put this . . . _really_ gay." And he realized that he wasn't really joking about stuff like that anymore, he wasn't just using that word for laughs, the word he had come to despise. There was no sign of a smile on Eddie's face either. "Sorry."

"No, it's—" Eddie waved his hand around in the air, dismissively. "You're right."

"What?"

"You're right," he repeated.

"About what?"

"It's gay," Eddie began, and then he looked up and his eyes met Richie's again. "I _am_ gay," Eddie said, and a completely new type of silence fell between the two, enveloping them with something strange yet familiar. Shared secrets, honesty, undying trust.

And for the first time that night, it was Richie who reached out his arms and slung them around Eddie, pulling him close. _Fuck_, he thought. Maybe he even said it out loud. He felt as though this entire conversation came 27 years too late for them. But then again, better late than never.

Richie buried his head in Eddie's shoulder, taking in the scent of whatever hair and skin products he used, the detergent from his clothes, and underneath of it all the scent of what Richie could only describe as _Eddie_. He felt warm. Richie let his hands wander up and down Eddie's back, feeling his spine underneath his palms. He could stay like this forever.

"Have you fallen in love with anyone else since then?" Eddie's voice was only inches away from Richie's ear, and Richie could feel Eddie's hair on his cheek. The question surprised him.

"What do you think?" he replied, and he could feel Eddie's body shake with laughter. He left the question unanswered; he knew that Eddie knew fully well that he never fell in love again. There was a burning question on Richie's mind, and he didn't even think twice about asking it. "Have you ever been in love?" And he wanted to laugh at their situation. Here they were, two grown men, meeting in a town because of a childhood promise that no sensible adult would ever actually keep, and they were lying in each other's arms and talking about love.

"I don't know," Eddie said.

"You're married." They both let go of the other only to sit back against the wall again, their shoulders and knees touching. The atmosphere in the room shifted.

Eddie sighed and looked at the ring on his finger. "I know."

Richie nudged Eddie with his elbow, desperately trying to lighten the mood. "Marriage usually happens when two people love each other and want to spend the rest of their lives together," he said, expecting Eddie to push him away. But Eddie didn't, and instead he raised his head to meet Richie's gaze.

"Or it happens if your mother completely fucked you up to the point where you can't live your life the way you want to," he deadpanned. Richie pressed his lips together at the memory of Eddie's mother, of how clingy and manipulating she was. He remembered how much Eddie hated her for that, how much hate and anger was still evident in his voice, in the way he spoke of her. "I guess this fucking clown was almost the least of our worries back then," Eddie said, which made Richie huff out a laugh. "You could have told me sooner, you know."

"I was a stupid teenager and shitting my pants just thinking about it," Richie replied. "I couldn't tell you."

"I'm sorry," Eddie said, and the sincerity in his voice brought tears back into Richie's eyes. He blinked them away before Eddie could see.

"You didn't tell me either, so don't put this on me."

"Why did we have to grow up in this fucking place of all places, huh?"

"I don't know," Richie said. "We could've had some good chucks back then if the world had been kinder to us. We could've talked about how ridiculously good-looking Bill was."

Eddie made a sound that could best be described as an astonished groan. "He _still_ looks ridiculously good now, doesn't he?"

Richie tilted his head, an amused smile on his face. His chest was beginning to feel lighter. "Speak for yourself, Eds. If you fancy Bill, I guess that means I can get whatever model is pretending to be our old friend Haystack all for myself."

Eddie laughed, and Richie felt his heart flutter. He had missed that sound. He would do anything to hear it every single day for the rest of his life. "Guess you're gonna have to fight Beverly for him," Eddie said.

At that, Richie reached up, pinched Eddie's cheek and pulled his hand back before Eddie could push it away. "You're handsome, too, though, so maybe I'm just gonna stick with you."

"And you are—" Eddie began, making a gesture with his hand to indicate thinking.

"Careful! Choose your next words wisely or the last thing you'll ever feel will be my hands around your throat."

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

Richie's mouth fell open; it was seldom that someone managed to make him look scandalized. "Where were you hiding all of that sass when we were younger?"

"You don't wanna know," Eddie said, and winked.

"I really want to kiss you right now."

"What?" Eddie's head spun around.

That sentence had just come out of Richie's mouth, and it surprised them both.

"I want to kiss you," Richie said, and perhaps he had never said anything that he'd meant more. "Really badly."

Eddie blinked at him, and his lips curled into a smile. "Then why don't you?"

A beat, and then, without waiting so much as a second longer, Richie surged forward and grabbed Eddie's face between his hands. He pressed their lips together, closing his eyes, and his heart jumped out of his chest. Just like their conversation, this kiss was 27 years overdue, and they both knew it. Eddie grabbed Richie's face in return, his fingertips buried in Richie's dark hair.

And for a moment, nothing but them existed in the world. No clown, no Derry, and no other life that neither of them wanted to return to. All that mattered was their hands holding onto each other, their intermingling breaths, and their beating hearts, the space between their lips.

"I love you," Eddie said, and there was all the love and sincerity in his eyes to leave no doubt about it. "And by that I mean _all_ of the homo."

Richie snorted. He leaned forward and kissed Eddie on the crown of his head. "And I love you, Eds."

"Also I swear, if any of this makes it into one of your next shows, I'm going to kill you."

"Your skinny little ass could _never_."

"Hey!" Eddie leaned back, grabbed a pillow from beside him and flung it right across Richie's face with a satisfying smack.

"My glasses!" Richie screamed, adjusting them on his nose and raising his hands in defense. "You can't just hit people with glasses!"

"Do you think I care?" With that, Eddie swung the pillow a second time, hitting Richie's head from the back, tousling his hair and making it stand up. "Don't call my little ass skinny again and we'll be good."

"Alright, alright, I won't call your skinny little ass skinny aga—Ouch!"

After swinging his pillow a third time, Eddie reacted just in time to dodge the pillow that Richie now held in his hands. It only hit his shoulder, and Richie lifted his arms up to strike again.

"Okay, okay, we're good!" Eddie screamed.

"You hit me three times, I only hit you once. How is that even remotely fair?"

"At least I fulfilled one of your wishes."

"Which was?"

"I allowed you to kiss me."

"I think you wanted to kiss me just as badly, Eds."

"Yeah but still, it wasn't _me_ who whished for it."

Richie's eyebrows perked up. "Do you want me to grant you a wish as well?"

"It would be nice of you to ask at least."

"Alright. So what wish can I make come true for you, my love?" Richie licked his lips.

"Can I sleep over?"

"Oh, Mr. Edward Eds McFly Kaspbrak—"

"I hate you."

"—I'm not really in the mood for, you know, shenanigans."

"I meant actual sleep, dumbass."

"In that case," Richie said and slung himself on his back in a rather uncomfortable looking sleeping position and he extended his left arm. "Come here."

Eddie lay down next to Richie, putting one of his hands on Richie's chest. "I still can't believe you had a crush on me back then," he said.

"Oh, big time."

"I'm an idiot."

"Glad you finally caught on to that."

"Okay, maybe I will sleep in my own room after all," Eddie said teasingly and made moves to get up from the bed. Richie pulled him back by his sleeve.

"Stay."

And with Eddie leaning against him again a moment later, tears were welling up in Richie's eyes at the relief he suddenly felt. It washed over him like a wave, enveloping him in a blanket of warmth and love and Eddie. It was like he had finally reached the surface after struggling to come up for so long.

He could have this.

_They_ could have this.

And that stupid clown no longer had power over Richie if he admitted this thing to himself. He loved Eddie, with all of his heart, with his entire being, and he wasn't ashamed to admit it, not anymore, not to himself, not to _anyone_.

Eddie was lying in his arms when they fell asleep, and Richie's last conscious thought was that Eddie would still be there when he woke up. They were finally together.

And they were going to kill this fucking clown.

**Author's Note:**

> They defeat the clown and live happily ever after.
> 
> Richie: "I'm gay"  
Eddie: "bitch me too the fuck?!"
> 
> I hope this story gave you some chucks and made you clutch your heart and maybe say "aww!" at some point. Let me know what you thought and if you would die for Richie and Eddie as well.
> 
> Be well, be gay, be proud, be true.


End file.
